


Pigs and Chickens and Bikers, Oh My!

by dragongirl_3745



Series: Challenge Fics for Game of Cards LJ Community [4]
Category: due South
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 13:44:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10720497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragongirl_3745/pseuds/dragongirl_3745
Summary: Just another day at the precinct.





	Pigs and Chickens and Bikers, Oh My!

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Challenge 06: Tumblr @ao3tags at LJ community Game_of_Cards. My choice was "pigs, chickens, bikers".

Lt. Harding Welsh stepped into the squad room and immediately wanted to turn back around and walk out. He just stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of the four bruised up bikers, the crate of squawking chickens sitting on Detective Ray Vecchio's desk, and the two little pigs that where being herded around the squad room by a half-wolf named Diefenbaker. He turned slowly to stare at the man wearing a red uniform standing against the wall by the door, who shifted uncomfortably under Welsh's regard.

"Explain, Constable."

Constable Benton Fraser of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police cleared his throat to speak, and found all eyes in the squad room were on him. He ran a finger around the collar of his uniform and shifted uncomfortably again. 

"The chickens fell off of a chicken truck that sideswiped one of the bikers. The pigs are called tea cup pigs and are the pets of two young children who were taking them to school for Show-and-Tell. The mother of the children was also involved in the collision, but it was not through any fault of hers."

"And you thought to bring the whole kit-and-caboodle here?"

"The pigs escaped the car and ran away. The mother decided to just take the children home, as she was quite shaken up by the accident, when I offered to let Diefenbaker locate the pigs. The chicken truck did not stop when the accident occurred, so I could not return the chickens to it. I do have the license plate number of the chicken truck, so I thought it prudent to return here and find the chicken truck owner. The bikers became combative and disorderly, so Ray brought them back here as well."

Welsh turned to regard the squad room and just shook his head. Things sure were never boring when Fraser was around. One of the chickens gave a loud squawk at the same time that Detective Ray Vecchio walked into the squad room with the chicken truck information. The squawking chicken caught Dief's attention for a moment and the pigs made a break for the open squad room door. 

Fraser, Dief, and Ray gave chase and soon the sound of humans shouting, pigs squealing, and a half-wolf barking filled the air. Welsh sighed heavily and went to his office. As he passed Detective Vecchio's desk, he glanced in the crate at the chickens. He stopped, stared for a moment, and reached into the crate to carefully lift out a fluffy yellow baby chick. The baby chick hunkered down into Welsh's palm as Welsh gently stroked a finger over the soft fluff. 

Welsh gave another heavy sigh, set the baby chick gently back into the crate, and continued onto his office. He entered, shut the door, and closed his eyes at the temporary silence. He knew it wouldn't last long, not once the Constable, Detective and half-wolf wrangled the pigs back to the squad room. His eyes opened when the shouting, squealing, and barking became loud as the pigs ran back into the squad room with two men and a half-wolf following close behind. 

He watched as Vecchio slammed the squad room door shut and Fraser managed to catch one of the pigs. He smiled internally as the room slowly began to settle down again. Welsh walked around his desk and sat down behind it. He leaned back, studied the squad room again for a moment, and shook his head. As he turned his attention to his paperwork, he knew that he wouldn't change the craziness for anything.


End file.
